


The Palpable Obscure

by subito



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c., Religious RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-26
Updated: 2011-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:36:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subito/pseuds/subito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt</p><p>"But Michael Gove and Steve Hilton were there as the PM’s archangels on earth" (<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/celebritynews/8633155/Matthew-Freud-from-spiteful-schoolboy-to-super-schmoozer.html">source</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The air is cooler and purer than it is during the day and Michael inhales deeply, savouring the memory of times when the only pollution in the world were animals. Those days are long gone and all the clean space has gradually been filled with man’s creativity in the fields of technology and the mind. The first he welcomed because it meant his efforts going around with a roll of script might have done some good and there was not much he admired more than intelligence; the latter he would never openly admit to welcome because, for all the torture and battles, it was still oddly frowned upon. It was a poorly guarded secret amongst the inner circle though that Michael’s creativity in those matters succeeded everyone else’s and that he knew how to make good use of his unusual and mesmerising looks.

Even with his eyes closed he can feel Steve approaching before his presence is given away by the noise that escapes through the door of the building behind them in between opening and closing. He isn’t sure if it is an angel thing or just a Steve thing. Steve has always gotten under his skin and Michael goes tense for a moment as Steve leans against the railing with his back, just a few centimetres away from Michael’s hand. He looks at Michael with those blue eyes that make you forget he isn’t as tall as you, that make him seem annoyed and smug at the same time and that - and this gets to Michael the most - haven’t, during all those millennia, lost one bit of their sharpness.

“ _Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel sat,  
Chief of the angelick guards, awaiting night;  
About him exercised heroick games  
The unarmed youth of Heaven_” , Steve says loudly while looking towards the sky.

Michael looks at him blankly. Steve laughs. “Oh, come on. I know how much you enjoy poetry, especially when it’s about yourself.”

“I didn’t know there was enough room in there to remember things that have nothing to do with strategy.”

“Ah, who says it hasn’t?”, Steve grins at Michael. “Isn’t it in my best interest to cheer you up? Seeing as I might have to spend at least another decade close to you? So don’t be like that.”

“Michael sighs. “You know me too well. But what’s a decade to you? After all these centuries… you should be used to it by now. Though the pauses _could_ be longer I suppose…”

“You want longer pauses? This time I’ve only had HIM to myself for a few years until you found us. Not only that but Gideon was there even before you…”, Steve shakes his head, “… always the same with him: First he was reluctant and then he built him an altar!”

Michael looks him straight in the eye” You’re so easily jealous. Just like –“

“Don’t say it! I’m not like him.” Steve is close now, their noses almost touching. Then he smirks. “Besides, you are the one who stole my name…, “Michael”.”

Michael actually blushes at that and even in the darkness a bit of that essence shines through that makes him so intriguing to people.

“Look at me..”, Michael makes a vague gesture, “Do I still look like “Gabriel”? I’m not as pleasing to look at as I used to be. I changed the name for the same reason I now wear my hair short, even though people now don’t mind when you look a bit androgynous.”

“You aren’t even that anymore.”, Steve laughs.

“You are one to talk.”, Michael shoots back. “You aren’t exactly in warrior shape anymore”, he looks pointedly at Steve’s little protruding belly, “and your sword is almost taller than you.”

“Well at least the dragons I fought weren’t imaginary”, Steve replies a bit disgruntled.

Michael huffs and then murmurs: “and while we are talking about names, you aren’t any better in that department. “Steve”, Στεφανος, _crown_ …….” He almost spits out the last word and is tempted to keep looking at his feet for however long Steve will continue to intrude on him. But he isn’t one to be defeated that easily, so he looks up again with determination.

They just stare at each other for a moment, their faces far too close together for Michael’s taste. Except that they are also not close enough together for his taste. He tries to keep his eyes on Steve’s but he is too aware of the open shirt, of the button trying to keep the fabric together which is stretched over the chest…

Michael feels caught but before he knows what to do or say, Steve brings him back into the present just to make him fall again a second later. Bastard.

Steve opens the button and pushes aside the fabric on one side to reveal the barely visible tattoo that Michael only knows too well is there (*). Elegant white ink, right under the clavicle, where the skin is soft and firm, stretched and relaxed, warm and cool at the touch… Oh!

Michael’s finger is ghosting over the writing and for some reason Steve lets him do it. But then Steve buttons up his shirt again and brushes Michael’s hand away in one motion. Michael’s finger feels like it has been burned, like those letters carved their way into his finger and not the other way around. Those elegant letters, so old… Michael has always had a thing for the lowercase eta.

“Just so you remember. You know what it says, what it means. Clever sod that you are, with your books and…”

“Leave my books out of it!”, Michael snaps. “What are we fighting about anyway?”

“We aren’t fighting. I quoted some nice poetry and you got all defensive.”

“I didn’t get.. oh, nevermind. I’m not in the mood.” Michael turns away and lets his shoulders sink.

“I know”, Steve says, serious all of a sudden, “That’s why I tried to cheer you up. What’s going on?”

Michael doesn’t answer for a second, confused by the sudden change in tone but then decides that he might as well tell Steve. After all, he might be the only one who can actually understand.

“I just…miss HIM so much. So much.”

Steve sighs and goes to stand in front of Michael again. “I know”, he says, “I do too. But it will take a while for him to remember who he is. And it is our - and Gideon’s, I suppose – task to be there for him, this time. To guide HIM. To help HIM.”

He lays his hands on Michael’s shoulders and forces Michael to look at him.

“Why the rules have changed I don’t know. But we have to make sure that he keeps a good mind. That he is not influenced by the lurking dark forces. That people like him. That people are getting the message and embrace again everything we stand for.”

Michael nods, and then almost laughs “Embrace… The ‘Hug a Hoodie’ thing could be a stroke of genius.”

Steve smiles at him in a way that almost gets rid of all the sadness in Michael’s eyes.

“Do you want to go back in?” Steve asks with a nod to the door.

“I don’t think so.” Michael answers and he sounds tired.

Steve thinks for a moment and then puts an arm around Michael, dragging him down a bit and holding him close.

“I might have an idea.”, he says conspiratorially and Michael raises and eyebrow.

They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow, through Whitehall take their solitary way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are getting to the porn now...

While they are walking, Steve lets his hand trail down Michael’s back. When he reaches the outline of Michael’s invisible wings, Michael inhales sharply and Steve relishes the look of shocked wonder on Michael’s face.

He continues to lightly run his hand across the cover feathers until Michael finally, with an unsteady voice, asks where they are going. At that, Steve clicks the fingers of his other hand and they are standing on the steps to Steve’s flat.

The only sound is the rustling of Michael’s wings, which have begun to spread and are now half-visible. It’s a sure sign but Steve silently asks Michael if he is sure as he opens the door and Michael smiles a bit shyly in confirmation.

Once inside, Michael lets his wings become fully visible and Steve is tempted to see how wide he can make him spread them just by staring. Not that he would ever tell Michael this but for a long, a really long, time he has wanted to stroke Michael’s feathers. They seem so much more elegant than any wings he has ever seen. His own are testimony to his athleticism, short and compact but powerful and each cell bursting with energy. Michael’s are long and slender, and wouldn’t he know better, Steve would expect a line of silver running through every one of those feathers. Steve always wondered how they seemed so warm and comfortable regardless. In contrast, his own wings he has always associated with bruised steel for although they also had a shimmering glow, they wore the marks of battle.

Michael usually doesn’t feel this self-conscious but this is Steve’s realm and he is still trying to comprehend that this is happening. It’s not like there is a fixed start and end to their existence but the things both of them have done in their time have left their bodies transformed. Michael can’t help but wonder if what he now lacks in what was once said to be exceptional and divine beauty plays a key role in all of this. He wonders if it makes him more approachable in Steve’s eyes and then concludes that he might have it wrong because even though he has always found Steve’s battle drive and cock-sure manor a bit intimidating, it has also been the thing that had made him want.

But then he stops to worry and his always racing mind is silenced by Steve’s proximity. Michael feels tingly all over as Steve raises a hand to cup his jaw. When their lips brush, there is no telling what exactly he is feeling because Michael’s senses go wild with ‘hot’ ‘soft’ ‘ouch’ and ‘oh’. If that’s what a simple kiss does to him he seriously can’t imagine how he will get his body through the night without leaving it.

Each new angle, each sweep of tongue sends shivers through his body, radiating into his toes and fingertips, through the alascapular joint and to every tip of his feathers. Michael tries to hold it together as best as he can and is pleased to notice that despite Steve’s calm appearance he is shaking a bit too. Michael’s hands explore the firm flesh through the thin layer of Steve’s shirt, the muscles shifting beneath his fingers and – a distinct lack of what makes them who they are. He breaks the kiss and takes a few seconds to catch his breath.

“Your wings. Where are- “, Michael asks with a confused look on his face.

“They are there, just not ..really.”

Michael still looks confused and Steve sighs.

“I learned to put them away, disguise myself. It was necessary for a bit. Too much exposure before and then people started to catch on to who I was and I had to learn to…stay in the shadows, if you will.”

Michael actually looked a bit alarmed at the last statement and Steve was quick to reassure him.

“No, not like that. It’s.. I learned to leave them in the shadows, in the inbetween. Somewhere where they can’t be seen, no matter what people did to me to make them appear.”

At that he looked at Michael’s wings, magnificently stretched out behind his back. He could stare at them all day. Not only because he loved to see how the light played on them and how the little muscles made the feathers twitch but also because he knew that they were twitching because of him.

“They tried to…”, Michael started but couldn’t finish and still looked at Steve with a half-concerned, half-confused expression.

“Ah, well, one time they did but they learned quickly to never try that again.” He laughed. “It’s mostly about getting excited, which is what happens when you are in a fight. And when they know you’ve got wings, that’s what they go for first. Disarm and capture. Good thing they don’t know how sensitive they really can be.”

He stretched his hand out to touch Michael again and signal that they should just go back to what they’ been doing but Michael’s curiosity was sparked and there was nothing that could keep him from finding out what he wanted to know.

“So, why have I never heard about that? Why has no one taught me that? Who taught you that, anyway?”

“Monks.” Steve shrugged. “Japanese monks. Among other things, that’s what they taught me.”

“I can see how you might want to keep that quiet.”, Michael chuckled. “Don’t tell me running around in only your socks has something to do with that as well?”

“Hey, don’t get cheeky!”, Steve warned him and pulled him close for another kiss.

“One more thing- “, Michael started after the short kiss and Steve rolled his eyes. “So they aren’t there but you… you can still feel them? But they can’t be damaged?”

“I don’t know exactly how that works. They can be harmed when I lose focus. And yes, I feel them but I can influence if I feel them in their normal hypersensitive or in a dulled-down state. And now “, he grabs Michael’s shirt and pushes him until they are in the bedroom, “less talk and more..”, he pushes Michael onto the bed, “of this!”

“I thought we were doing this to take my mind off things?”, Michael teased. “Talking about your wings keeps my mind occupied. Although…”, he pulls Steve closer so he can get his hand on Steve’s back, “we don’t need to talk about them. I could just…” ,he runs a finger over where he expects the alascapular joint to be and Steve’s eyes widen in surprise.

The next thing Michael knows, his hands are pinned to the bed and Steve stares at him for a few second before leaning down and licking a line along Michael’s neck until he reaches the collar of his shirt.

“Too many clothes.”, Steve states and helps Michael sit up so that their faces are close together once again.

Michael holds Steve’s gaze and does what he has wanted to do all day: free that button from its strain and feel the skin beneath. He slowly lets his fingers wander over the flesh and waits for the moment Steve stops fighting and his eyes flutter close. When he reaches the last button and strips Steve off his shirt, Michael brings his lips to the now almost glowing tattoo under Steve’s left clavicle. His tongue is tracing the letters while his other hand is brushing over Steve’s chest and right nipple.

There is a sharp intake of breath and Michael can’t help but smirk. He does it again and when he looks up, Steve looks at him with a lustful glare.

Removing Michael’s shirt is a bit of a struggle and they end up on their sides, pressed against each other from head to toe. Michael is holding onto Steve’s hips, letting his hand stray to grope at Steve’s perky arse, while rocking gently against him. Steve’s eyes are fixed on Michael’s face and he starts to run his hands across the edges of Michael’s wings. His fingers move in line with the feathers’ direction, sometimes straightening a stray one and then digging underneath the cover feathers to get to the fluffy, downy ones.

Michael whimpers at that and then there is a low sound escaping his throat that he has never heard himself make before. His hips are moving more urgently and when Steve tugs at one of the feathers he is this close to coming in his pants.

He chokes out “Trousers” and Steve is only too happy to oblige. Leaving the wings alone for a moment, his hands open Michael’s flies and free the leaking cock. The sudden move of cool air against the wet tip makes Michael shudder and he opens Steve’s trousers while Steve’s hand is working his cock in slow strokes. His other hand is in Michael’s hair and brings his ear close to Steve’s mouth.

“I’m going to make you ride my cock.”, he tells Michael with a hoarse voice and Michael moans in agreement.

They continue to kiss until their trousers and underwear are removed and Steve rolls on his back, taking Michael with him so that he sits on his legs. Michael starts to lean down for another kiss but Steve stops him and just lies there, taking in the sight.

He doesn’t say that this is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. The marble skin, dusted with a few hairs where it counts. The long torso and sharp contours of the arms and neck. Those wings, that almost reach from one side of the room to the other, shimmering in the light and giving the impression to illuminate the darkest corners. Steve can see the tiniest feathers move as if wind was blowing through them but he knows it’s the tension and anticipation of what is to come because he can feel his own wings itch.

So instead of saying anything, he runs one hand down Michael’s side and lifts the other to Michael’s mouth. Michael’s experience is showing because he wets each finger perfectly, making not only sure that all surfaces are coated but also letting his tongue flirt with Steve’s fingertips. When Michael removes the fingers from his mouth, he leans down for another kiss and Steve spreads Michael’s cheeks to do a quick but thorough job of preparing him.

Once he has two fingers inside, he is all too aware of how badly Michael needs more and his free hand finds its way into those silky feathers once more. While working a third finger inside Michael, Steve tugs at Michael’s feathers again.

“Please.. please, I- I need..”, Michael breathes heavily and in one swift motion Steve replaces his fingers with his cock.

One hand is pushing Michael down steadily and the other is taking a handful of the feathers so rough it must hurt. Michael cries out at this and some precome drops onto Steve’s belly.

“Fuck!”, Steve moans and they begin to move with a steady rhythm.

Michael steadies himself by holding onto Steve’s shoulder. The muscles are flexed because Steve is trying to hold Michael in place. It’s becoming harder and harder with every thrust and when Steve opens his eyes again, he can see the reason for that.

It’s not only because Michael, in all his flushed glory, is riding him like it was the whole point of his existence; it’s because Michael has given himself over so completely that he can’t control the motion of his wings anymore and they have started to move in such a way that they are lifting Michael into the air.

Using this new information, Steve finds a new rhythm for them in which he lets Michael try to press down while Steve thrusts into him and uses the natural lift the wings offer as a short pause that threatens to pull them apart before he forces Michael down again onto his cock and goes in as deep as he can get.

He doesn’t know how long he will be able to keep that up but when he sees Michael’s hand working his own cock and how close he is Steve knows he won’t have to. Michael is looking at him with big eyes and when Steve’s hand caresses the smallest and most sensitive tips of his wings, Michael nods and Steve grabs a fistful. Michael comes with almost silently all over Steve’s belly and while his body relaxes with exhaustion immediately, Steve finishes inside Michael with a few fast thrusts.

A few moments later Steve rolls Michael off him and watches in fascination how his wings start to get smaller and become translucent. He gently strokes them as they disappear and, with his hand on Michael’s back and Michael’s hand on his belly, Steve falls into a short sleep.

When he wakes up fifteen minutes later he sees Michael lazily sprawled out next to him and can’t help but smile. Steve nudges him and Michael smiles back.

“We should have done that centuries ago.”, Steve says despite himself.

Michael grins and sleepily replies “Mmh. But next time I want to see you wings. I want to..”, he yawns, “want to stroke them while you are leaning over me, while you are buried inside me. I want to feel them on my skin…”

Steve shifts onto his side to properly face Michael. “Next time?”, he asks in mock surprise.

Michael fondly but clumsily runs a hand across Steve’s cheek. “I remember you saying something about at least a decade.  
And, you know, _‘Our torments also may in length of time  
Become our elements.’_”

Steve can’t think of a reply to that other than pull Michael closer while they both fall asleep again.

**Author's Note:**

> (*) It says 'archistrategos'(ἀρχιστράτηγος)
> 
> \---  
> Quotes are borrowed from Milton's _Paradise Lost_ , which was a bit of an inspiration for this.


End file.
